


The Gallery

by MysticPuma



Category: Ib (Video Game), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gallery visit, Gen, Who is Mary?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2097213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticPuma/pseuds/MysticPuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John takes Mary to an Art Exhibit as a surprise. She reacts a bit different to how he imagined she would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gallery

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an odd little thing I thought of on a whim. It's based on the ending "Together Forever" of Ib and based somewhere between The Sign Of Four and His Last Vow of Sherlock (though honestly, that has little bearing on the story itself XD) Enjoy x

“Open your eyes.” He announced, grinning. Mary sighed as she let her eyes open slowly to see him brandishing two tickets. He was stood before a small exhibition hall and as her gaze slid over the tickets to see what the exhibition was her eyes widened. “So? Did I do good? You said you liked art! And you mentioned this artist…”

“We’re going to the… Guertena exhibit?” she whispered, feeling fear creep into her mind. “I thought they stopped exhibiting his works… y-years ago…” she stammered, feeling a little faint, as memories flooded her mind.

“Well, someone wanted them to be shown again; there was this endorsement from some wealthy family in America.” She gulped, but forced a smile.

“Well, we should take advantage of their generosity, shouldn’t we?” John grinned as she took one of the tickets and practically skipped to the door; a mannerism she had long-since discarded.

John hurried after her, proud of himself that he’d picked a good surprise for his wife, not realising the mistake he’d made. Mary had told him once that she admired Guertena and had wanted to meet him as a child but had then found out he had died and had been devastated. Honestly, John found the previewed works in the brochure extremely creepy, but he wanted to make Mary happy, so it didn’t matter if he was comfortable.

He followed slowly behind her as she handed her ticket in to the reception desk, which had a large poster depicting a painting of a giant angler fish behind it. John shuddered, but ignored his discomfort as he passed his ticket over and followed his wife into the gallery.

Mary gulped. The layout was different, but it had the same feeling… the same terrifying loneliness she had felt as a child. And yet, she felt safe in the knowledge that John was behind her, smiling and radiating warmth and life. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued into the world that was once her home.

Memories spiked in her mind as she came to the first piece, and she smiled a little as she gazed at the rose sculpture. A tear threatened to slip from her eye as she thought of her sister, long since gone from the world, taken cruelly from them by illness shortly after her visit to the Guertena exhibit in her home town. Mary gulped.

“Ib… I miss you… I’m living for both of us…” she whispered, resting a hand over her heart for a moment before moving away from the rose.

She was brought face-to-face with a face that made her smile. The Lady in Red. She looked like Ib, only older. Perhaps that was why Mary had liked Ib so much… Because she’d resembled someone who could, in theory, be considered Mary’s sister. She didn’t spend long looking at that picture, and instead moved on to view some of the familiar sculptures that had littered her home.

Death of the Individual was a haunting piece, but Mary could remember dancing with them in the days before Ib had arrived. It, and others, brought back oddly fond memories for her as she passed them.

But her smile was ripped from her face as she saw _that picture_.

“Mary?” John’s voice cut into her thoughts, and she realised she had stopped in the middle of the room, across from the image. She blinked, feeling a few tears slide down her cheeks and a concerned hand rested on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” John asked, panicking a little. But Mary ignored him as she stepped towards the painting.

His eyes were closed, his hair draped over one side of his face, and he was surrounded by Roses.

“Garry…” she whispered. But as she got closer to the picture, her eyes widened. “The name…”

“Promised Reunion?” John supplied, reading from the plaque below the frame.

“It’s changed…” she muttered.

“Changed?”

“It used to be… NO!” she cried as her gaze finally pulled away from his face to notice what had changed about the picture. He was smiling, and in his arms was cradled a young girl. “I-ib…” she whispered, tears building in her eyes as she stared at the face of her sister… No, not her sister… Her friend. They were never sisters. She had taken his place in this world so that she could become Ib’s sister… but she was never their child. Her father was dead… Even being in a gallery full of his works, Mary knew she’d never meet her father… But she had had a family.

But why was Ib trapped in that world?

She clutched her head as memories flooded into her mind.

A red rose, stood on the mantelpiece in a vase of water… Her sister, coughing and spluttering as another petal fell onto the cold wood. A whispered voice as she cradled red-eyes at night…

_Your fault… If you’d stayed… She’d be okay…_

Because Mary had left, Ib and Garry had both been trapped. She got a life in exchange for theirs. “I’m sorry…” she whispered. “Thank you both… For this chance to… to live…”

“Mary, what’s wrong?”

But she ignored him, examining the picture further. In her hands, Ib held two intertwined roses, one red and one blue. She was smiling as well, but her eyes were open, and Mary swore that it was as though she was telling her it was okay… That they were happy… They were lying on a bed of violet rose petals and above them… Was a single yellow rose.

She felt a watery smile tug at her lips as she rested her hand on the canvas.

“I’m fine, John. They’re happy… So… So I’m happy.”

As soon as they left the gallery, Mary went to the florists and bought three artificial roses. John never really understood their significance, but whenever Mary looked at the red, blue and yellow flowers, she remembered her friends.

Sherlock noticed the change in Mary after her visit to the gallery, and was the only one who seemed to understand the meaning of the roses other than her. Of course, he didn’t quite believe the things his deductions eventually revealed, but once you rule out the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

And as the lights went out in the gallery that night, blue eyes opened, crinkling slightly at the sides as the boy and girl watched life pass them by, waiting for the day Mary might come back and join them.


End file.
